


Then And Now

by afteriwake



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Big Bang Challenge, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-14 18:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rory decides to stay with an old friend as he studies to be a nurse. No one told him exactly how much had changed since the last time he got to see Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lotl101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotl101/gifts).



> I got a prompt from the lovely **lotl101** about having Rory and Sherlock live together. She gets two versions of it, one set post episode 5 of “Pond Life”/post-“The Reichenbach Fall” for a big bang fic I need to write and this one, where Sherlock and Rory were friends as children when Sherlock visited Leadworth in the summer and Rory moves in with him when he goes to University. Anything that’s a long part in italics is a flashback to the summers that they knew each other as children.

_Rory didn’t have many friends. There was Amelia and Mels, but really, that was about it. He was considered kind of strange by all the other kids. He didn’t get bullied, but he got ignored. Sometimes that was worse than bullying. And he just put up with it, let it happen, because he didn’t want to get into fights or draw any more attention to himself._

_Things changed the summer he was eight, though. Amelia had let him go after playing another round of Raggedy Doctor, and he was on his way back home when he saw that there were people moving in next door to him. It was a summer rental, that place, and no one ever went there. So he went up to the fence and watched. It appeared to be a small family: mother, father, two sons. One of them was older, probably a teenager, and the other didn’t look that much older than him, maybe two or three years. The younger one had a pirate hat on his head and looked bored._

_Rory must have stood there for a while because finally the younger boy got up and came over to him. “Who are you?” he asked._

_“Rory. Rory Williams,” he replied._

_“I’m Sherlock Holmes,” he said. He didn’t grin, but he did offer his hand. Rory reached over the fence and shook it once. “Do you live around here?”_

_“Next door,” he said, pointing to his house. “Do you like pirates?”_

_“I do,” Sherlock said with a nod. “But my git of a brother doesn’t want to play with me.”_

_“I like playing pirates,” Rory said. “My friend Amelia usually has me play Raggedy Doctor these days, so I don’t get to play pirates as much.”_

_“Want to play pirates with me?” Sherlock asked, and when Rory nodded he began to grin. “Have you got a hat of your own? And a sword?”_

_“I have a hat and a hook, if that’s all right. And an eye patch.”_

_“Well, go get them and let’s play,” Sherlock said, and Rory grinned at him. Finally, someone he could play with that didn’t want to force him to be the Raggedy Doctor._

\--

Rory finished packing his bag. He had decided not to travel before going to school, applying directly to King’s College to get his degree in nursing. It was going to be strange moving to London to attend school, but at least he wouldn’t be alone. He’d had a friend as a child, a summer visitor to Leadworth who lived in London and invited him to live with him he went through university. It would be good to see Sherlock again, considering the last three years had been spent with just the occasional phone call and letter. Once Sherlock had turned eighteen he’d stopped coming to Leadworth, but he hadn’t completely forgotten Rory.

There was a knock at the door and he looked, seeing Amy standing there. He was going to miss her, but they’d agreed to do the long distance relationship thing. They’d only just started dating three months prior, the night Amy bailed Mels out of jail for hijacking a bus and going on a joy ride a few weeks before they graduated. It had been a good start, but then school had ended, the summer was over and it was time for him to go off to university. “Hey,” she said, smile on her face and parcel in her hands.

“Hey,” he said with a grin back.

She came in and held out the parcel. “Going away gift. Just some stuff I thought you might want or need while you were traveling to London.”

He took the gift and unwrapped it. There was a tin of homemade biscuits and a photograph of the two of them that someone had taken at a party the month before that she’d put it in a frame for him. “Thanks, Amy.”

“God, I told myself I wasn’t going to get sad,” she said, the grin dropping off her face.

“It won’t be like we don’t talk,” he said, setting down the gifts on his bag. He went over to her and stood in front of her, framing her face in his hands. “You can come visit, you know. And I’ll be back for holidays. And there are phone calls and letters.”

“I know. I just…it won’t be the same here.” She leaned in and kissed him softly, a kiss that went a little deeper after a moment. He let it continue for a few minutes before he reluctantly pulled away. He was worried that it might go a bit too far, and he didn’t want to ruin things with her. “I’m coming with you to the bus station, yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He reached over for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Everything will be fine, Amy. I promise.”

“You'll make sure of that?” she said, squeezing his hand back. He nodded. “We should get going now, right?”

“Yeah.” He let go of her hand, grabbed the gifts she’d given him, stuck them in his bag and then put his bag on his back before getting his suitcase. The rest of his things he was taking had already been sent along to the address Sherlock had given him, a place in the Soho area. The only thing he’d have to do when he got there was unpack, since there was already a bed, desk and dresser in the room. 

He was nervous, but he was bound not to show it in front of Amy. Amy had wanted to know why he couldn’t go to school closer to Leadworth. When he’d told her it was her constant games of Raggedy Doctor that got him to want to be a nurse, she’d smiled. He’d told her he wanted to make her proud, and the best way to do that was to go to the best school. King’s College was the best place to attend, and he wanted the best education. She’d accepted it but he knew she still wanted him close. Truth be told, though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave Leadworth behind. It was a big deal for someone to leave, and it was strange that he was leaving and she wasn’t. With her adventurer’s spirit he’d always assumed Amy would leave him in the dust and get out of Leadworth as quickly as possible. But she was staying, working in one of the shops in town, and he was going to have the adventure in London. It just didn’t seem right to him. But that was how it was and while he was glad to get the opportunity he knew that, most likely, he’d come back to Leadworth in the end. So long as Amy was there, he’d be coming back.

He didn’t live that far away from the bus station. They walked there, hand in hand, and when they got there the bus had already pulled up. She gave him a hug and a lingering kiss, and then he boarded the bus and watched as it pulled away, leaving Amy and Leadworth behind. He just hoped he was making the right decision.

\--

It was a while before he arrived in London. He had dozed on the buses he’d had to take, trying to get the trip over with. He had never really been a person who liked to travel, and now he found himself making the longest trip he’d made in years. He’d been to London before, but not since he was young. When other people in Leadworth had gone for quick trips he’d stayed behind. Now he wished he’d gone so he could be more used to this city. He got off the bus and got into a cab, giving the address Sherlock had given him. It didn’t take too long to get there, and after he’d paid the driver and gotten his things out of the cab he went to the door and knocked.

After a few moments the door opened and he saw a tall and slender man in front of him, with curly black hair and mesmerizing eyes. Sherlock really hadn’t changed too much in the last three years, he realized, at least looks wise. He grinned slightly as he saw Rory standing there. “Williams. Glad to see you made it in one piece.”

“Sherlock,” he said with a grin. 

“Come in. You’ve got the room down the hall from mine,” he said, moving out of the way for Rory to come in.

“Did my things get here all right?” he asked as he stepped through the doorway.

Sherlock nodded as he headed up the stairs that were in front of them. “Didn’t open any of the boxes, just set them in your room.”

“Thanks,” he replied. He trudged up the stairs after him. “So, who owns the place?”

“My family, though my parents have decided to move away from London and Mycroft lives on his own. This is where I grew up. It will be just the two of us for a week, and then another boarder will be coming in.” Sherlock opened the first door on his left and moved out of the way. “Your room, Williams.”

Rory stepped inside. It was nice, about the same size as his room at home. He saw his boxes stacked neatly in a corner, saw the bed looked comfortable, and when he came in and began looking around more he saw the desk and dresser were empty. He put his bag on the bed and then lifted up his suitcase to join it. “Looks nice enough.”

“It is. This is Mycroft’s old room,” he replied. “My parents turned it into the second guest bedroom when he got his position in the government.” He watched Rory look around. “There aren’t a whole lot of rules here. You’re on your own for meals, there’s someone who comes to clean twice a week, and my parents would prefer if don’t destroy the place.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Rory said with a nod. “Anything else I should know?”

“I keep strange hours,” he said with a shrug.

“Aren’t you in university?” he asked.

Sherlock shook his head. “Dropped out. Too boring. I consult sometimes for Scotland Yard, but otherwise my time is my own.”

“Sounds interesting,” Rory said.

“I’ll leave you to unpack. I was going to order Chinese for dinner, if you want take-out.”

“Can I get some sweet and sour pork, egg rolls and fried rice?”

“I can put your order in. I’ll even make it my treat.” There was a slight smile on his face. “It’s good to see you again, you know.”

Rory grinned back. “Yeah. Good to see you again, too.”

“I’ll get you when dinner arrives.” He left then, and Rory went to his bag and unzipped it. The first thing he did was put the picture of him and Amy on the nightstand, and then got to work on putting his clothes away. It was about a half hour later that Sherlock told him the food had arrived, and Rory ate with him, though they both stayed largely quiet. Sherlock left shortly afterward and Rory went back upstairs to finish unpacking. When he was done he looked around. This would be a good place to stay, he decided as he laid down on his bed and shut his eyes. He wouldn’t regret this at all…or so he hoped.


	2. Chapter 2

University was harder than school had been before. Rory quickly found himself having to handle a heavier course load with loads more memorization and teachers who didn’t cut him any slack. He was sure he was going to be overwhelmed by all the work by his second week of the term, but by the end of his first month in school he’d found he’d gotten a handle on it by developing a system. It helped that Amy sent him some organizational supplies in a care package his third week there: an organizer, colored tabs for his folders, other tabs to put in his books and while it wasn’t organizational a tin of biscuits to help “get him through the rough spots,” her letter said.

Sherlock wasn’t helping matters much, however. The first week Rory had heard thumping about at odd hours of the night, doors slamming every half hour, and when the other boarder arrived he and Sherlock had gotten into a vicious argument after three nights of that. There had been fisticuffs and Sherlock had ended up with a huge bruise under his left eye while the other boarder had a dislocated jaw. He had seen Sherlock get angry before in the past, but never this violent, and never with someone who wasn’t his brother. Rory stayed in his room much of the time after that, only going out for class and for food for the next week after that.

Sherlock cornered him later and convinced him to go round to the pub for the night. It was a Friday and he didn’t have class the next day so he agreed. Whatever had happened in the time since he and Sherlock had been separated had changed his fried, and quite a bit, it seemed. He liked to drink a lot, and Rory could have sworn he was doing other things than drinking, but he wasn’t sure. Rory had had two pints and that was it, but he’d had to collect a drunken Sherlock and cart him off home at two in the morning, and that was only after searching for him for two hours after he’d disappeared from the pub. Rory had found him sleeping in an alley, mumbling about things in his sleep.

Rory decided that in his own best interest he’d try and distance himself from Sherlock. Not so much that it caused Sherlock to reevaluate whether Rory could live with him, but enough so that he didn’t get sucked into Sherlock’s mess of a life. He put that idea to use for the rest of his first month there, and it worked well. Sometimes Sherlock was a violent raging mess, though, and Rory seemed to be the only one able to calm him down. Those were the times he dreaded, but it seemed not to happen too frequently, for which he was eternally grateful.

He spent a lot of time on the phone with Amy. Those were the times he looked forward to. Even as children they’d always been able to talk about anything for any length of time and he hadn’t yet found that same thing with new friends in London. She worried he would and he’d forget all about her, and he assured her that wouldn’t be the case. He never voiced his own fear: that while he was gone she would find someone new and leave him. He had been in love with her for some time, and while he knew his love was true and steadfast he didn’t know if she loved him or not, or whether she could handle their separation, and he just found himself praying she could.

They were on the phone now, in fact, and she’d just gotten done filling him in on all the non-happenings in Leadworth. He had a grin on his face as she recounted every shred of gossip she could think of in the last three days. Then she paused. “When can I come visit?” she asked finally.

“I have a three day weekend in two weeks,” he said after thinking a moment. “Things seem to have settled down a bit here. It’s been a week since Sherlock’s had an episode.”

“You think he’d mind if I was there?” she asked.

“He already said there’s a guest bedroom you can use. Are you sure your parents will let you come?”

“Yeah. They like you, Rory, and liked the changes in my personality when we started dating. And besides, it’s you. They know nothing’s going to happen while I’m here.” She said the last bit with a slight chuckle. “And if they don't have to spend any money for a hotel that makes things easier. Is it Friday through Sunday or Saturday through Monday?”

“Friday through Sunday,” he said.

“If I show up Thursday night can you meet me?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Great.” He imagined she had a wide smile on his face. “Should I bring anything?”

“Clothes for the time you’re here. Maybe something nice if we decide to go out? I haven’t gotten to do a lot of exploring. And I can buy food for me to cook. Anything you’d like to eat?”

“How about I cook for you? I imagine you’re living on typical university student fare that’s cheap and not very good for you.”

“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. “Home-cooked food would be nice. Anything you feel like making?”

“I have a few ideas. And I don’t mind spending half a day cooking so you have leftovers, so long as you keep me company.”

“If you were here I’d kiss you right now.”

She chuckled. “You can do plenty of that when I come visit. So not this Thursday but next Thursday I’ll be there, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. He looked at the clock and saw it was nearly ten at night. “I need to go now. I have an early day tomorrow.”

“All right. I’ll call on Tuesday. Bye, Rory.”

“Bye, Amy.” He hung up his phone and laid down on the bed. It had been a long day but now that he had something to look forward to he felt relaxed and happy. So relaxed, in fact, that it didn’t take long for sleep to overtake him. He forgot to turn off the lights so when he heard the pounding on his door later he was able to turn to the clock and see only four hours had passed. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he got out of bed and padded to the door opening it. The other boarder was there, looking incredibly livid. “Yes?”

“Sherlock is your friend, right?”

“Yeah,” Rory said.

“Then you can tell him I’m leaving and I want the rest of the rent I paid for the month back. No one told me there’d be mad science experiments run in this house, or banging at odd hours, or violin music at two in the morning or landlord’s sons without enough sense to not get pissed or high all the time.” It was only then that Rory looked to the man’s side and he saw that his bags were packed.

“How much rent do you need?” Rory said, biting back a sigh. The man told him, and he trudged to his wallet. It would be all the money he had for the month, but he was sure he could get it back from Sherlock. He handed the man the money, and got a surprised look in return. “I can get it back.”

The man looked at the money in his hand for a moment before glancing back at Rory. “If you know what’s best for you you’ll leave before he drags you down. You’re a decent chap and you need to think of yourself,” he said as he pocketed the money. “Just a friendly bit of advice.”

“Thanks, mate,” he said.

The man picked up his bags and headed down the stairs. Rory waited a moment, and then went to Sherlock’s room. Sure enough, he could hear the violin music through the door. The boarder’s room had been right next to it while his own room was down the hall, which might be why it didn’t bother him as much. Suppressing a yawn he knocked on the door. After waiting a few more minutes he knocked louder and added “Sherlock, its Rory.”

The violin music stopped, and after a minute had passed the door opened a bit. “What is it?” Sherlock asked.

“The other boarder left.”

“Left?”

“Packed up and left, Sherlock. As in permanently. I had to give him all my money because he wanted his rent back.”

“Well, good riddance to him. He was a rather disagreeable man.” The door opened wider. “Let me pay you back.” Rory came in as Sherlock went to his coat pocket and pulled out his billfold. He pulled out some money and then brought it over to Rory. “That should cover it.”

“Thanks,” Rory said. “At least now I have something to spend when Amy gets here.”

“Your girlfriend is coming?” Sherlock asked, surprised.

Rory nodded. “Not this Thursday but next.”

“It will be nice to see her again," Sherlock said.

“About that. Can you stay sober while she’s here? And not run any of those experiments so late at night?” Rory asked, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s just for the three days after.”

“I’ll try. And if I decide to go out for the night I’ll just stay out all night. Will that work?”

Rory nodded. “That’s fine. Thanks.”

“Well, you’re my friend. We should treat our friends well.” He moved towards the door and Rory walked with him. “Good night, Rory. Sorry your sleep was interrupted.”

“Night, then,” Rory said as he left the room and Sherlock shut the door behind him. As he walked back to his own room he wondered if he was really being a good friend by standing by as Sherlock self-destructed. But with a sigh he reasoned that it had been so long and there was so much that had happened that he didn’t know that maybe it wasn’t his place. If Sherlock really needed his help, he’d ask for it, right?


	3. Chapter 3

_“Who is that girl I keep seeing bossing you around?” Sherlock asked one day a week after he came to Leadworth for his second summer there. “She did it last summer as well.”_

_“Oh, that’s Amy. She’s my friend,” Rory said as the two of them walked towards the park._

_“She’s so bossy,” Sherlock said. “If I were you I’d stop being her friend.”_

_“She isn’t so bad,” Rory said with a shrug. “I kind of fancy her, actually.”_

_“Then your taste in females is strange.”_

_“What about you, Sherlock? Is there anyone you fancy?”_

_“I don’t have time for things like that. I’m going to become a consulting detective.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_“Well, it’s like a regular detective, except I’ll consult Scotland Yard instead of being a detective inspector.”_

_“Why not just join Scotland Yard?” Rory asked stopping in his tracks._

_“Because the lot of them are idiots,” Sherlock said as he continued to walk. “Besides, I wouldn’t have to follow their rules. I could solve my cases however I wanted.”_

_“That sounds really neat, actually,” Rory said after a moment before scrambling to catch up to Sherlock. Sherlock had longer legs and walked at a quick pace so it was already hard enough to keep up._

_“It is neat. And if you were smart you’d forget about Amelia and focus on your own dreams instead of her.” Sherlock looked over at Rory and grinned. “It would make your life a lot less troublesome.”_

_“I guess. But I like her too much,” Rory said with a shrug. “Race you to the park?”_

_“Fine,” Sherlock said with a nod, and then the two boys took off running, the conversation forgotten for now._

\--

“Rory!” Amy grinned widely as she caught sight of her boyfriend at the bus terminal. They had agreed that he would meet her there, and he was glad he had decided to arrive early because she had gotten there twenty minutes early. She dropped her bags and ran up to him, giving him a hug for a moment before kissing him. He kissed her back, realizing this was something he had greatly missed while he’d been in London.

When they pulled apart they went back to her bags. Amy slipped her backpack onto her back and Rory picked up her small duffel bag with the hand that wasn’t holding hers. “How was the trip?” he asked.

“Long and boring, but worth it to see you again,” she said with a grin. She walked close to him. “I’ve been so excited for this weekend. I kept making mistakes at work and then when I told Nancy why she understood. I swear, it was all I could think about.”

“It was all I could think about when I wasn’t dealing with school,” he said with a grin of his own. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She squeezed his hand. “So, what are our plans?”

“Well, first we’re going to drop your things off, and then I thought we could go out to dinner and then maybe the local pub. Tomorrow and Saturday is sightseeing, and then Sunday we spend the day in, since you said you wanted to cook for me.”

“That sounds good to me,” she said with a nod. “Is Sherlock going to be home?”

He shook his head. “He said he was going to get a hotel room for the weekend, spend some time with friends. I didn’t question it, and quite frankly I’m thankful for the peace and quiet.”

“That bad?” Amy asked, stopping in her tracks and looking at him.

“We had another boarder who only lasted two nights. It’s like Sherlock’s trying to get everyone to leave,” Rory said with a sigh. “I’m staying because frankly I have nowhere else to go, and I feel like I need to keep an eye on him, keep him from doing anything too crazy.”

“You’re not his keeper, Rory,” Amy said, reaching up to touch his face. “You need to look out for yourself.”

“The first boarder told me the same thing. Guess I’m just too good of a friend.”

“Well, just promise me that if it comes down to Sherlock and school you’ll chose school, all right? Everyone is really proud of you.”

“Even you?” he asked with a grin.

“Especially me.” She gave him a quick kiss. “So come on. I only have three full days here. I want to spend it somewhere warm and with you.”

Rory’s grin got wider as they made their way to the waiting cabs. They got in and Rory gave them the address of Sherlock’s home. When they got out they made their way up to the door but it opened before Rory got his key in.

Sherlock stood there, looking surprised for a moment. “Oh, it’s _this_ weekend she’s coming over,” he said quietly. Rory could hear the muted sounds of people on the other side of the door and he groaned inwardly. Sherlock had company over, and this was never good. His company always got out of hand.

“Yeah, it’s this weekend,” he said with a nod.

“Tonight is on me, whatever it is that the two of you want to do. I’ll even put you up in a hotel tonight.” Sherlock reached for his wallet and pulled out a large sum of money. “My friends will be gone tomorrow, I promise.” He handed the money to Rory. “Will this be all right?”

“It will be fine,” Rory said as he pocketed the money.

“Nice to see you again, Amy,” Sherlock called out as Rory guided Amy back down the stairs.

“Okay, what was that all about?” she asked as Rory hailed them another cab.

“Sherlock has some rowdy friends he has over every once in a while. Usually he’s good enough to wait until the weekend, and then I just pop on headphones and listen to loud music. Guess they couldn’t find a place to party tonight.”

“That doesn’t bode well for us finding a place to sleep,” she said.

Rory pulled out the wad of money Sherlock had given him. His eyes widened as he counted it. “No, I think we can afford someplace very nice tonight.” He showed her the money and watched as her eyes grew wide as well.

“We could probably get a room tonight and tomorrow, and still have money for food both nights,” she said after letting out a slight whistle. “He must really want that party.”

“I guess so,” Rory said with a nod as a cab pulled up. “Come on. I know just where to stay.”

\--

“The Royal Garden Hotel was a nice choice,” Amy said as she set her things down. “I mean, it’s only for tonight, but Sherlock did promise his friends would be gone tomorrow.” She looked around. “I don’t think I’ve ever stayed someplace so nice.”

“Me either,” Rory said with a grin. “Sorry there’s only one bed, though. I promise I won’t try anything.”

“I know you won’t,” she said with a grin as she came up to him. “You should be more worried I’ll try something.”

He blushed slightly. “Amy…”

“I won’t, though,” she said, giving him a quick kiss. “Let me go take a quick shower and change into something nicer. There were some shops nearby if you want to buy something to wear tomorrow. It’s going to take me a bit to look my best.”

“I already think you look great,” he said.

She gave him another kiss, though this one was longer. “I want to impress you. So go on, go. I’ll be fine.” She pulled away, giving him a shooing motion before she grabbed her duffel bag and went into the loo.

Rory went out of the room and to one of the nearby shops, buying an outfit for the next day and a nicer shirt to wear tonight. It took him about forty minutes to do his shopping, and he also picked up some flowers at a nearby florist for Amy. When he got back to the room she was nowhere to be seen. He set the flowers on the bed and quickly changed into the new shirt before picking up the flowers again. “Amy?” he called out, putting the flowers behind his back.

“In a second,” she called out from the loo. He waited, and when the door opened and she walked out in an emerald green halter dress he could feel his eyes widen and jaw drop. “Do you like it?” she asked with a grin.

“Yes,” he got out. He pulled the flowers out from behind his back. It wasn’t as fancy as a dozen roses, but she smiled anyway and quickly began looking for something to put them in. Once she found something and put the flowers away she took his hand and then he led the way back downstairs. He was glad he’d thought to buy the nicer shirt because he hadn’t expected her to look so stunning. They made their way to the restaurant at the hotel, the Park Terrace, and he had to admit this was definitely better than his own plans for the evening had been.

By the time they were done with dinner they still had a significant sum of money left over, and Amy said it should be spent over the next two days while they were sightseeing. Rory was glad she suggested it because he had some money set aside but not a whole lot. Amy went to the loo to change and take off her make-up, and Rory settled onto the bed after changing back into the shirt he had originally worn that day. Amy came out ten minutes later in sleep pants and a vest, and the two of them settled on the bed together. “I’m enjoying myself so far,” Amy said as she got under the sheet and blankets. “Even if it didn’t go according to plan.”

“Yeah, it has been pretty nice,” Rory said as he pulled her closer.

“The only thing that will be bad about sleeping next to you is I’m going to want to do it every night, even when you’re here and I’m back in Leadworth,” she said, putting her hand on the arm around her waist.

“You might be able to visit more often. And eventually I’ll have a break between terms.”

“Yeah, but when we’re in Leadworth do you _really_ think your parents or mine are going to let us share a bed?” she asked.

“I suppose not,” he said after a moment. “We should enjoy it while we can.”

“Maybe I can just sleep next to you this entire weekend,” she said, turning in his arms to face him. “And then come visit again next month.”

“I would like that,” he said with a nod.

She grinned at him, then leaned forward and kissed him softly. He knew nothing would happen this weekend; she’d promised, and as much as she might want to she would wait until he was ready. But as he kissed her back, he hoped that maybe it would happen one day, and hopefully sooner rather than later.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock kept his word. When Rory and Amy arrived the next morning to drop off her things before they went sightseeing his friends were gone and he was nowhere to be found. They went out and explored the entire day, and when they came home late in the evening Sherlock was still gone. The same held true Saturday as well. On Sunday they woke up late, around ten in the morning. Amy had learned where the local market was earlier in the weekend and she went to go buy the food she needed to cook and bake for Rory. Rory had put off doing all of his work for school and Amy had said it was fine if he worked while she cooked. He had brought his books down to the area next to the kitchen where the table was when he heard the front door open. “You’re back early, Amy,” Rory said, getting up and going to the sitting room.

“That’s because I’m not Amy,” Sherlock said as he entered. “I didn’t bring enough money to get through the weekend. I have to eat, after all.”

“Ah,” Rory said. He studied Sherlock for a moment and felt bad that Sherlock had been out of the house all weekend so far. “You know, there’s going to be a lot of food tonight. If you want to come back earlier, maybe you can get some of it while it’s hot.”

Sherlock thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. “I doubt your girlfriend will want me around.”

“Well, we did have a very enjoyable night her first night here because of you,” he said. “I don’t think she’ll mind too much.”

“If you’re sure, Rory,” he said.

“I am.”

“Then I’ll be back at five. What time is she leaving tonight?”

“Nine.”

“I’ll try my best to be friendly.” And with that, Sherlock went up to his room. He left ten minutes later, and a half hour after that Amy was back with armfuls of groceries. She spent the day cooking and baking and promptly at five Sherlock arrived. Amy had not been quite as keen on him being there as Rory would have hoped, but she brought him into conversation and the evening was more or less pleasant. At seven the food had been finished and put away, and the three of them were sitting around the table. Amy had bought a bottle of wine and she and Rory were each having a glass. Sherlock had decided to have ale instead. He was now on his second bottle. 

“So, why’d you stop going to university?” Amy asked, taking a sip of her wine.

“It was boring,” Sherlock said with a shrug. “There were other things I could be doing.”

“You mentioned you consult for Scotland Yard. Aren’t you a bit young?” she asked.

“Only the older detective inspectors take issue with my age. Lestrade doesn’t. I get most of my cases from him.” He took a sip of his ale. “Rory doesn’t talk about Leadworth much. Is it still the same boring little place?”

“Oh yeah. Still boring,” Amy said with a nod. “Not much goes on there these days. After Rory left it got even more boring. Mels is still a hooligan, so that’s about the only spice in my life, getting her out of scrapes.”

“I remember her. She was quite…interesting,” Sherlock said.

“That’s one word for it,” Rory murmured before Amy slapped his shoulder.

“Hey, she’s your friend too,” Amy said.

“Yes, a friend who doesn’t talk to me very much,” Rory pointed out.

Amy was quiet for a moment, and then sighed. “That’s true, I suppose. She keeps trying to come out here to London.”

“God help the city if that happens,” Rory said with a slight grin.

“I don’t know. I think she and Sherlock might hit it off,” Amy said with a wider grin.

“Oh no. That’s just asking for trouble. She’d drag him down in all sorts of illegal activities and he’d lose his consulting job,” Rory replied.

“On the contrary, it might be good if she had someone who could help her get out of trouble,” Sherlock said thoughtfully.

“No. If she shows up I’m showing her right back to the bus terminal and sending her back to Leadworth,” Rory said adamantly.

“You are no fun,” Amy teased.

“I already have one headache. I don’t need another,” he replied.

“What headache have you got?” Sherlock asked.

Rory mentally cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to imply anything about Sherlock tonight, not in that way. “University,” he said. “It’s hard to deal with, and she’d just make things infinitely harder.”

Sherlock looked skeptical for a moment, but then nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” He finished his drink. “And on that note, I need to leave you both. Lestrade had a case he wanted me to consult on, and the autopsy should be done by now.”

“All right. See you next time I’m here,” Amy said with a grin.

“Walk with me a moment, Rory?” Sherlock said.

Rory set down his wine glass. “Sure.”

The two of them walked into the living room. “I know I am the headache you were talking about,” he said quietly. “I’m not stupid. I know I’m a hard man to live with, and you have had to put up with a lot. I’ll try and be more considerate.”

“Thank you,” Rory said with a nod, relieved at the turn the conversation was taking. Sherlock could have gotten angry, and instead he was almost apologizing.

“Enjoy your last few hours with Amy, and tell her she’s more than welcome to come visit whenever she wants, so long as she cooks at least one meal.”

“I will,” Rory said with a grin. Sherlock gave him a slight nod and went out the door. He went back to find Amy taking the dinner dishes to the sink. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Does his drinking concern you?” Amy asked quietly as she turned on the water.

Rory blinked. He hadn’t expected this turn in the conversation. “What?”

“He had two bottles of ale and now he’s going off to consult on a case. I mean, if I was the mother or sister of a victim, I wouldn’t want a guy who’d been drinking to come talk to me.” 

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Rory said.

“It’s just…it’s a bit concerning.” She looked at him. “But I suppose you don’t want to talk about Sherlock right now.”

“No,” he said, turning the water off. “I’d much rather kiss you for a while.”

She grinned at him. “You know, that would be very nice, considering we won’t get to do that much for a while.”

“You’ve been invited back, so long as you cook at least one meal,” he said, going over to her and putting his hands on her waist. She put her arms around his neck and grinned at him. “I’m going to miss you, Amy.”

Her smile faltered. “I’m going to miss you too, Rory.”

He leaned in and kissed her, and when she kissed him back the kiss was possessive and needy. He knew it was kisses like this that could lead to more, but tonight he would just kiss her and hope that the next time she came to visit she could stay longer. It was going to be hard to be separated from her, but they just had to plow through and make things work. And he had faith that that could do it, which was what mattered most.


	5. Chapter 5

_”Your brother’s a bit…weird,” Rory said one afternoon the first summer Sherlock visited Leadworth. “I mean, he’s acting all…I don’t know. Stuffy and full of himself.”_

_“He’s getting a position in the government as soon as the summer is over,” Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. “It’s making him all puffed up.”_

_“Really?” Rory said, his eyes wide. “Wow. That’s big news.”_

_“I suppose,” Sherlock replied with a sigh. “Personally I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s just a job.”_

_“Well, you want to be a consulting detective,” Rory said. “That’s a neater thing to do.”_

_“I suppose. Mum wants me to have a proper career, though.” He sighed.” I want to solve crimes, but I don’t want to be a copper. Too many rules.”_

_“You could be a private detective, like in those old pulp novels,” Rory said after thinking a moment._

_“That could be interesting,” Sherlock said as he tilted his head slightly. “But that would mean too much spying on people. I want to solve murders. I’ll just have to convince my mum that being a consulting detective is at least as good as being a stupid government employee. That I'm just as good as my stupid older brother.”_

_“Well, just hire yourself as a consultant,” Rory said. “I mean, you could take other cases and consult for the police at the same time, right?”_

_Sherlock grinned at him. “I like that! Yes. I’ll be a consult.” Then he turned to his friend. “And when you get older you can go to London and be a doctor like you want.”_

_“I want to be a nurse now,” Rory said quietly, nearly mumbling._

_“Not a doctor?” Sherlock asked curiously._

_“Too much school. My family can’t afford that. But if I was a nurse, I’d still get to help sick people.”_

_“Then you should do it,” Sherlock said with a nod. “Saving people’s lives is always a good thing. And I’ll help any way I can.”_

_Rory beamed at him. Whenever he told that to anyone else he got laughed at. It was nice to have someone tell him that was a good thing to be, and offer to help. “Yeah, it is,” he said with an emphatic nod._

_“Come on. Let’s go into town and get ice cream,” Sherlock said. “I’ll even treat.”_

_“You’re on,” Rory replied, and they left Rory’s yard and headed towards the center of town. Sometimes it was good to have a friend other than Amy…_

\--

Rory only had to go a month without seeing Amy. There was another extended break coming up, and as soon as he found out about it he called her and they made plans. This improved his mood greatly as the exams during the middle of his term approached. He spent more time studying than anything else, and even Sherlock had relented and wasn’t causing as much trouble as he had before. Rory was grateful for this.

It was about two weeks before Amy arrived for her second visit that he got a visitor. At first he was confused as to who the man in the suit sitting at the table was, because as far as he knew they weren’t expecting any more boarders. But then he turned around and Rory knew it was Sherlock’s older brother Mycroft. The man looked much as he had when they were all younger, except his face was more severe now and he favored well cut suits as opposed to shirts and slacks.

“Rory Williams,” Mycroft said urbanely. “Perhaps I could have a moment of your time?”

“I have a lot of studying to do, but…yeah, I can spare some time,” he said, adjusting the bag on his back slightly. “What is it?”

“It’s concerning my brother Sherlock,” Mycroft said, standing up. “My parents are concerned about his behaviors. They have lined up another boarder to stay here and they want him to stay longer than a few days or weeks. I have been asked to ask you for your help.”

“How so?”

“Monitor my brother, as best you can with your studies. Let me know what he’s doing, and how he’s doing. I can promise you will be well compensated for your troubles.”

Rory stared at Mycroft. Mycroft wanted him to spy on Sherlock? He knew Sherlock was a bit of a mess, but Sherlock was his _brother_. "I'm not sure I can do that."

Mycroft handed Rory an envelope. Rory opened it and stared. The envelope had a large sum of money in it, more than what he got in a month. "You will receive this much every two weeks. Keep the money and in two weeks we'll see how you feel." And with that Mycroft left the room, leaving Rory staring at the envelope.

After a few moments he took his belongings and the envelope to his room. Once he set his bag down he dialed Amy on his mobile. As soon as he heard the click of her answering he blurted the news out. "Sherlock's brother Mycroft wants me to spy on Sherlock for him,” Rory said, going to his bed and sitting down. “I don’t feel right doing that.”

“What exactly does he want you to do? Snoop around Sherlock’s room and find things out or just observe him?”

“Just observe him,” Rory said.

“Then I say do it. Rory, I had concerns about his behavior while I was there, and I’m not his family or his friend, not really. If his brother is so concerned that he’s going to pay you to keep an eye on him, that should be a pretty big sign right there.”

Rory thought for a moment. He didn’t want to admit it, but things weren’t all that great, and Sherlock probably wasn’t doing as well as he could. “I should tell Sherlock, though, right?”

“Did his brother say anything about that?” Amy asked.

“No.”

“Then I wouldn’t, at least not right now. Did Mycroft give you a way to get a hold of him?”

“No, but he said he’ll speak to me in two weeks. I get the feeling if I need to find him before that he’ll find me first, though.”

“Then wait until the next time you talk to him before you tell Sherlock. Mycroft may not care, but he also might not want Sherlock adjusting his behaviors when you’re around.”

Rory sighed. “I guess you’re right about this. I just don’t feel right doing it. Maybe I shouldn’t take the money.”

“But you need it, yeah?” Amy asked.

“Yeah,” Rory said glumly.

“Then keep it. Think of it as payment for you putting up with Sherlock’s quirks.”

“I suppose.”

“Rory, it’ll all be okay. And if nothing else, you have me coming to visit in two weeks to look forward to. That will be nice, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, relaxing and even smiling a bit. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“And I get a week this time, that’s the best part,” she said. “Hopefully we’ll get to do some fun things while I’m there.”

“I have some plans,” he said. “More sightseeing and stuff.”

“I’d like to spend some time at your place with you watching films and things, too, you know,” she said with a chuckle. “We don’t have to go out all the time.”

“Okay, maybe I can pick up some films.”

“Good. I have to get going, because my mum’s here, but you’ll call me again in a few hours, right?”

“Of course.” He paused. “Love you, Amy.”

There was a pause on her end and he realized he’d never actually _told_ her he loved her yet. He wanted to mentally slap himself for a moment before she replied. “I love you too, Rory. Call me tonight, all right?”

“Okay,” he said, wide grin on his face. She loved him! This was enough to lift up the weight on his shoulders. He hung up and looked at the envelope again. Well, he still felt bad, but Amy was right. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, in the end.


	6. Chapter 6

Amy arrived at nine in the morning the day her vacation with him was supposed to start. He’d kissed her in greeting, then taken her bags and walked over to a waiting cab. They chatted as they made their way to Rory’s current home, and everything seemed fine until Rory opened the door. Mycroft was sitting on the sofa, and Rory started slightly. “Damn,” he said. “I forgot you were coming.”

“Rory,” Mycroft said with a nod. Then he looked behind Rory to Amelia. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Amy said, confusion on her face. Then the confusion cleared as it dawned on her who he was. “You’re Mycroft, aren’t you? Sherlock’s brother?”

Mycroft nodded and stood. “Yes, I am Mycroft Holmes,” he replied. He walked over to Rory. “Have you given any thought to my offer?”

“I have. I’ll do it, under three conditions,” Rory said, crossing his arms slightly.

“Very well,” Mycroft said with another nod. “What are your conditions?”

“Sherlock never finds out,” Rory said, holding up a finger. “All I do is observe. I don’t go snooping through his things.”

“I can agree to that.”

“You give me a way to contact you in case I get particularly worried about something,” he continued, holding up another finger.

“Very well. What is your third condition?”

“No more just showing up here,” Rory said as he held up his third finger. “If you want to meet with me, we do it somewhere else.”

Mycroft nodded. “I can accept all those terms.” He reached into his suit and pulled out another envelope, handing it to Rory. “My business card is inside. Tell me what you observed for the last two weeks.”

“He’s been keeping to his room a lot,” Rory said. “He got into a row with the group of friends he hangs out with last Saturday and spent the whole night out, drinking at the very least. He was very hung over Sunday morning. And he’s not eating as much, though I notice some of my food is missing at times. Nothing major, just snack foods. Also, he’s been getting less cases to work on, and that’s put him in a foul mood.”

“Detective Inspector Lestrade is starting to have concerns about his behaviors,” Mycroft murmured, reaching back into his suit. “I’ll have to talk to him about that.” He pulled out a wallet and took out some more money, handing it to Rory. “To replace the food my brother is filching from you.”

“That’s more than it’s worth,” Rory said, his eyes wide.

“Buy extra, just in case.” Mycroft closed his wallet and put it away. “I would like to hear from you on a weekly basis. I think that might be best. Call me with a location and time you would like to meet one week from now.” He nodded to Amelia. “Enjoy your stay in London, Miss Pond.”

“How did you know my name?” Amy asked with a frown.

“I did a full background search on Rory before he moved in here,” Mycroft said, “as I have done on every tenant. But, I also remembered you from the few summers I spent in Leadworth. You had a…reputation.”

“Everyone thought I was crazy,” she said bluntly, crossing her arms. 

“Yes, to put it in blunt terms.” He moved closer to her and whispered something in her ear, and her eyes widened. She dropped her arms and when Mycroft looked away she stared at him. “Keep that to yourself, Miss Pond. You may tell Rory, but no one else.” And with that, he left the room.

“What did he tell you?” Rory asked, curious.

“He knows the Doctor exists,” she said quietly. “He knows I wasn’t lying.”

Rory looked at the door as Mycroft closed it. “So he really was real? And the government knows about him?” Rory asked, his eyes wide.

“Apparently,” she said with a nod. “And what do you mean, he really was real? Didn’t you believe me?”

“I did, but then you stopped talking about him so I just thought you’d gotten over it,” he said, slightly defensively. The last thing he wanted to do was start a fight with her. “I never thought you’d lied, Amy.”

“Oh. Okay then,” she said. Then she grinned at him. “Come on. Let me make you breakfast.”

“How about I take you out to eat?” Rory suggested, looking away from her to the envelope Mycroft had given him. “I need to go put this in the bank anyway.”

“You don’t want to leave it where you can get to it?” Amy asked.

Rory shrugged. “I think Sherlock snoops in my room occasionally. He doesn’t take anything, but I noticed things have been moved lately, and I don’t remember moving them.”

“Then why didn’t you tell Mycroft that?”

“Because I don’t want to accuse his brother of spying on me if he really isn’t,” Rory said with another shrug before he pulled Mycroft’s business card out of the envelope. “Which probably means I should program Mycroft’s number into my phone and throw away his card.”

“No,” Amy said, shaking her head. “If he’s snooping, he might be looking on your phone. If he sees Mycroft’s number he’ll know something’s up. Put it in your billfold. I doubt he would look there.”

“Good point,” Rory said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his billfold, slipping the business card in. Then he looked at her. “Come on. I know a great place a bunch of the students eat at. Good food that isn’t all that expensive. Let’s go get your things stowed first, all right?”

“Okay,” she said with a grin. “I’m sleeping next to you this week, right?”

He nodded. “That had been the plan.”

“Good,” she said, her grin widening. “Because I missed sleeping next to you.”

“I missed that too,” he said with a smile.

She came up to him and put her arms around his neck. “I missed kissing you, too.”

“Yeah, I missed that too,” he said, putting a hand on her waist.

“We could go do that for a while instead of going out to eat,” she said as she leaned in more.

“We could,” he said, his grin getting wider. He leaned in as well, and just as they were going to kiss the front door banged open. Amy jumped, letting go of Rory, and turned quickly to see Sherlock stalk inside. “What happened?” he asked, looking at Sherlock.

“Lestrade told me I can’t work any cases for him until I sober up,” he growled. “Sober up? It’s like he thinks I have a problem.”

“Are you drunk now?” Amy asked pointedly.

“I had two pints.”

“At, what, eight in the morning?” Amy asked.

“You are not my mother,” he said, glaring at her.

“No, I’m not,” she said. “But you’re Rory’s friend and because he lives here, I worry about you.”

Sherlock blinked slightly. “You actually worry about me?” he asked quietly.

“Yes. So why don’t you go sit in the kitchen and I’ll get you food, all right?” she said, moving over to Sherlock and grabbing his arm, pulling him towards the kitchen. “Rory, you know where the things for coffee are. Make a pot.”

Rory sighed. This was not how he had planned on spending his first full day with Amy there, not at all. But if he wanted Sherlock to keep his consulting job, he realized, he had to sober his friend up. Because if Sherlock lost this job, Rory had no idea what he would do.


	7. Chapter 7

_”I hate school,” Sherlock said as the two boys made their way from the lake back to Rory’s home. It was days before Sherlock was to return to London. “I already know everything the teachers try to teach me because it’s so simple. And the other children hate me.”_

_”Have you thought about switching schools?” Rory asked. “Maybe you can stay here, go to school with Amy and Mels and me.”_

_”Maybe,” Sherlock said. “I doubt, it though. My mum wants me to go to the finest schools. She wants me to have the best education, be the smartest boy I can be. She wants me to be as smart as her precious Mikey.” He scowled. “I don’t like going to school because I never get to learn what I want. I have to learn what the teachers tell me to. It’s not fair.”_

_”University’s supposed to be better,” Rory said. “Then you get to pick what you study. You get to learn what you want.”_

_“I suppose,” Sherlock said. “What do you want to learn about?”_

_”Maybe how to be a doctor?” Rory said. “I think it’d be cool to be a doctor.”_

_”You just want to be a doctor because you think Amelia will fancy you if you’re a doctor,” Sherlock said, shaking his head. He kicked a rock in his path. “I want to study science. Chemistry, maybe. I like that part of school. Chemistry is easy, so long as you pay attention.” Then he turned to Rory. “We haven’t packed away the chemistry set yet. Want to have some fun with it?”_

_Rory nodded, a wide grin on his face.”I think that sounds like fun.”_

_”Good,” Sherlock said with a grin of his own._

\--

Amy staying there was a balm to the situation, but Rory knew it wasn’t going to last. And sure enough, when Amy went back to Leadworth Sherlock went back to his old behaviours. Not quite as bad; the threat from Lestrade seemed to have been at least partially effective. If he was working on a case for the Detective Inspector he abstained from having any alcohol, as far as Rory could tell. But there were other things Rory was almost positive Sherlock was doing that he couldn’t prove, and he knew that was far worse than some extra pints here and there. He wasn’t sure he should bring it up to Mycroft, however. Without proof it would just be his word against Sherlock’s. So he simply told Mycroft about Sherlock’s behaviours without bringing up his suspicions.

Rory continued to handle his studies well enough, or as well as he could. He began spending more time at the university to study, for the peace and quiet as well as the hands on access to materials. He hadn’t been sure Sherlock had noticed until one morning roughly three weeks after Amy left. He’d been studying for a particularly grueling exam when there was a pounding on his door. Rory sighed and got out of his chair, going to his door. Sherlock was leaning against his door jamb, looking rather perturbed. “You’re avoiding me,” he said quietly, in the bored tone he had affected as of late.

Rory gestured to the pile of textbooks and notes on his desk. “I’m studying,” he said, not trying to sound annoyed. He’d seen Sherlock be this way with the other boarder. He was trying to pick a fight, he knew that, and he wasn’t in the mood to get into an argument with his friend. “I have an exam in two days.”

“What is the point of filling up all your time with _studying_ and _schoolwork_?” Sherlock said, moving past Rory to come into the room. “There’s a whole world out there that you ignore, Williams. There’s a whole world to experience and you narrow your worldview to…this.” He moved to the desk and shut his textbook with disdain. Then he turned back to Rory. “Live a little.”

Rory sighed. “Sherlock, you’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not,” he said. “Haven’t had a drop of alcohol since last night. I’m not drunk.” He made his way over to Rory’s bed and sat down on it. “You used to be so adventurous, so up for anything. What happened to that? What happened to _you_?”

“I decided I wanted to be responsible,” he said with a shrug.

Sherlock glared at him. “You think I’m being irresponsible?” he asked, getting heated.

“That isn’t what I meant, Sherlock,” Rory said with a sigh. He really was trying to pick a fight. “I don’t want to have an argument. I want to study.”

“Ah, yes. You want to do the _responsible_ thing while I go off and get pissed and shirk responsibility,” Sherlock said, standing up. He made his way to the door and opened it. “Go to hell.” And with that Sherlock stepped out and slammed it shut behind him with such force that the framed picture of him and Amy that he kept on his desk fell to the ground with the distinctive sound of glass breaking.

Rory shook his head and went to pick up the picture. The glass had stayed in the frame, thankfully, but he’d need to replace it. He set it back on the desk and then got his mobile, pulling up Mycroft’s number. He dialed it and waited, and Mycroft answered after three rings. “Yes, Rory?” Mycroft said.

“Your brother is getting worse,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what he’s on, but it’s more than just alcohol. He was just in here trying to pick a fight with me.” He ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“I know it is hard but you being there helps,” Mycroft said. “However, if it gets to the point where it is a completely untenable position them by all means, you do not have to stay. But please. Try and stay as long as you can, for Sherlock’s sake.”

Rory thought about it for a moment and then sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay for Sherlock. But you need to try and get him some help.”

“I will try,” Mycroft said. “Call me if anything else develops.”

“I will,” Rory said before Mycroft ended the call. He stared at his mobile for a moment and then ran a hand through his hair. Somehow he knew this was all going to get much worse before it got any better.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are details of a drug overdose in this chapter, just in case you find that sort of thing triggering.

Things were quiet for the next few days. _Too_ quiet, Rory realized after two days. When Sherlock had stormed out of his room he had left the house and hadn’t come back that evening or at all the next day. Two days gone wasn’t cause to worry, but when he came back from classes and a study session the third day and Rory could see no sign that Sherlock had come back at all he began to worry. He had an early day the next day but it didn’t matter. He could be late. This constituted an emergency. 

He got on his mobile and dialed Mycroft’s now familiar number. There was a click a few seconds later. “Twice in a week. That doesn’t bode well,” Mycroft said.

“Sherlock hasn’t been back since he left the last time I called,” Rory said. “I mean, at least as far as I can tell without going into his bedroom.”

There was a pause. “There may be need for that,” Mycroft said quietly. “I need to know exactly what my brother has gotten himself into.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to snoop in his room,” Rory said.

“I was thinking I would pay a visit myself,” he replied. “I have every right to be in that home, and if I tell Mummy and Father that I think Sherlock has gotten in over his head with something worse than alcohol they’ll give me permission to go into his bedroom.” Then he sighed. “Sherlock has always had problems, ever since he was young. This seems inevitable.”

“Then why didn’t you do more to help him?” Rory asked.

“Because he refused it, time and again,” Mycroft said. “The only things that seemed to interest him as of late were his cases and your arrival. And now he seems bored with both.”

“I’ve had quite a few people tell me to put myself first,” Rory said defensively. “And I care about Sherlock, he’s a friend, but if he’s going to drag himself down then I’m not going to let him drag me with him. Our friendship is only going to go so far.”

“As well it should,” Mycroft said. “There are some lessons Sherlock should learn on his own, and the loss of his childhood friend, while it might seem cruel, might be something that has to happen to necessitate change. But at the moment, we need to find out exactly what we’re dealing with, and that means I need to do a thorough search of his room.”

“Fine,” Rory said. “I’ll help. And tonight we start looking for him.”

“You have classes to attend,” Mycroft said.

“I can get the notes from someone else,” he said. “I need to know too. I need to do something to help other than go running to you with what he’s doing.”

There was a short pause. “Very well. I’ll be there in a half hour.” Mycroft hung up then and Rory lowered his mobile phone before sitting down on his bed, burying his face in his hands. He couldn’t keep doing this. If they found anything in Sherlock’s bedroom that was worse than a few joints or maybe some tabs of ecstasy, any of the harder drugs which he was fairly sure Sherlock was on, he wasn’t sure he could stay. He wasn’t sure it would be a good idea for him to stay, or that he could offer Sherlock any of the support he needed to get through this. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

After a few minutes he picked up his mobile again and started to call Amy but stopped. After. He’d talk to her afterward, when he knew more. He didn’t want to worry her now. He wasn’t sure if he was going to have to spend the night out searching for his friend or not, or worse. After some more thought he got off his bed and made his way downstairs when he heard the front door open. He made his way into the hall as Sherlock stumbled in, obviously drunk off his arse. “Rory,” he said, slurring Rory’s name. He got close and Rory was overwhelmed by just how badly he reeked. He smelled like he’d bathed in vomit and urine and then rolled in a dung heap for good measure. Rory took a step back and Sherlock frowned. “Rory, what’s wrong?

“Do you have any idea how many days you’ve been gone?” Rory said, getting angry. “Sherlock, you disappeared for _three days_ with no warning and no word to anyone. What the bloody hell were you doing?”

Sherlock scowled. “Lestroodle kicked me off cases. Permanentaly. What’s the use of having a big, huge brain if I can’t use it?” He began flailing his arms. “I went and I drank. Drank at one place, then nother, then nother.”

“I can tell,” he said, making a face when Sherlock got closer. “You smell like you drank in a refuse pit.”

“Probably did,” he said with a negligent shrug.

Rory decided that he could get him in the bath before Mycroft showed up and then let his brother deal with him. “Let’s get you in the tub and cleaned up a bit. At least that way you don’t stink to high heaven.”

Rory put a hand on his shoulder but Sherlock angrily shrugged it off. “I can make it to the loo myself,” he said. He lurchingly made his way to the stairs, struggling to make it up. Rory stayed behind him in case he fell over. He fell down on a few steps but didn’t fall backward, which Rory considered a small miracle. When they got to the landing Sherlock went to the loo and then stepped inside. “I want my privacy, _thank you._ ”

Rory let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. But if you need me, I’ll be right out here, all right?”

“Fine,” Sherlock said, shutting the door in Rory’s face.

Rory blinked at that, and then turned and put his back to the wall before sliding down and sitting on the floor. He shut his eyes and tried to figure out exactly what to do next, and he wasn’t sure how long he had been thinking things over when he smelled something strange coming from the loo. He turned his head to look at the door. “Sherlock?” There was no answer, and after a moment he stood up. He heard something metal fall on the floor and a second later something else fall, and then he pounded on the door. “Sherlock!”

He wasn’t very strong, but the house was old, and after a few tries of ramming his shoulder into the door the door opened. He stumbled into the loo and saw Sherlock slumped against the bathtub, a syringe and a metal spoon on the floor beside him. _Damn it,_ Rory thought as he got closer to Sherlock. The idiot had gotten involved in heroin. From the look of his arm he’d been involved with it for quite a while, it seemed. Rory checked him for responsiveness but wasn’t getting any signs, and he was barely breathing. He began going into the protocol he had been taught on how to deal with an unresponsive patient. There was the sound of the front door opening as he got Sherlock in a better position. “Mycroft!” he yelled as loudly as he could. “Loo, now!”

Footsteps thundered up the stairs and soon Mycroft was at the doorway. He didn’t ask any questions, simply pulling out his mobile as Rory began to do everything he could to save his friend’s life. He didn’t bother to give Mycroft information because he seemed to have gathered it all on his own, instead concentrating on breathing for Sherlock when he stopped on his own. It didn’t take long at all for the paramedics to arrive, and they took over quickly, getting Sherlock bundled up and in the ambulance and off to the nearest hospital, leaving Rory and Mycroft alone. “If he survives it’s because you were here,” Mycroft said.

“If he dies it’s because I was stupid enough to let him in here by himself,” Rory said, sitting on the toilet and putting his head in his hands.

“You didn’t know he was using heroin,” Mycroft said.

“But I suspected, deep down. I thought he was on _something_.” Rory sighed. “I suppose we should get to the hospital and wait. Or you should, at any rate. I doubt they’ll let me there because I’m not family.”

“I’ll make them make an exception for you,” Mycroft said. He hesitantly put a hand on Rory’s shoulder. “All we can do is wait.”

Rory lifted his head up and nodded for a moment, and then stood up. He hoped Sherlock pulled through, he really did. If he didn’t…he didn’t want to think about how guilty he would feel, or how much he would miss his friend. He didn’t want to think about how much his family would miss him. And he didn’t want to think about what a waste it would be. So it would be best if he just pulled through.


	9. Chapter 9

_His mum didn’t like it when he climbed up trees, but Amy was always trying to get him to do it and he’d been fine, so he hadn’t thought it would be a problem when Sherlock tried to get him to do the same. The tree wasn’t as sturdy, though, and the branch couldn’t hold both their weight, and when it snapped and fell back to earth neither of them were unaffected. Rory had been lucky that all he got were some scrapes and a deep cut on his arm that could be taken care of with butterfly bandages; Sherlock ended up with a broken arm and a gash at his hairline._

_Rory had expected Sherlock’s mum to scold the two of them like his mum would, but she discussed the incident in very clinical terms, asked Sherlock what he had learned and then taken him to the doctor to get his arm looked at. The next day Sherlock showed up at his door with his arm in a cast and an apology to Rory’s mum for enticing her son to climb up in the tree in the first place._

_When Rory’s mum relented and let her son out to play, Rory and Sherlock went into the yard to play pirates. Sherlock slipped the hook into his cast a bit. “You sounded like you were actually sorry,” Rory said as Sherlock made slashing motions with his hook._

_”I’m very good at sounding sorry when I have to,” Sherlock said. “The whole experience was a pain in the arse, though. I’m just sorry your mum wanted to ground you for doing what I wanted you to do.”_

_”Well, she thinks you’ll end up being like Amy, a bad influence,” Rory said, adjusting his pirate hat to shield his eyes from the sun._

_”I don’t think you’ll let anyone be a bad influence on you,” Sherlock said, looking Rory up and down. “I think you might let people influence you, but you aren’t going to let them make you do things you don’t want to do.”_

_”What about you?” Rory asked, tilting his head. “Are you going to let people influence you?”_

_Sherlock didn’t answer. “You should sign my cast,” he said, dropping the hook and putting the cast towards Rory. “Wouldn’t hurt to have at least one friend sign it.”_

_“All right,” Rory said with a nod and a grin. That was the first time Sherlock had ever referred to him as a friend. “Let me run back in the house and get a pen, all right?”_

_Sherlock nodded. “All right.”_

\--

Rory had been dozing in a chair in the waiting room at the hospital. Mycroft had been able to get him to stay there but he hadn’t been allowed in Sherlock’s room while he was unconscious. That was understandable; it should be restricted to family only. But a nurse had been coming out every hour or so giving him an update, letting him know that Sherlock was stable but not awake.

He didn’t know what time it was when he realized the seats on either side of him had become occupied. At this time of night the waiting room in the ward had been empty save for him, so having other people in it was unusual. He sat up straight and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at the two occupants. They had not changed as much as he had thought they would in the last three years, except they also seemed to have aged remarkably in the eyes and in the sagging of their shoulders. Almost losing a son to a heroin overdose would do that, he supposed. “Mr. Holmes,” he said with a nod to Sherlock’s father. Then he turned to his mother. “Mrs. Holmes.”

“Thank you very much, Rory,” Mrs. Holmes said, leaning over and giving Rory a hug. He was surprised for a moment, and then awkwardly patted her on the back in response. She had tears in her eyes when she pulled away. “The doctors said we could have lost him if it hadn’t been for your quick thinking.”

“I just did what I’d learned to do,” Rory said quietly, looking at his hands. He couldn’t bear to look at either of them when he knew it was his fault for letting Sherlock go into the loo by himself that caused the problem in the first place.

“You could have panicked, or you could have done more damage,” Mr. Holmes said. “But you kept a cool head and you saved his life.”

“I suppose,” Rory replied. “Is he awake?”

“Not yet,” Mr. Holmes said. “Probably not for a little while. And he won’t be pleasant to be around while he’s in withdrawal, according to the doctor, so they’re going to see about keeping him sedated a little longer. Just through the worst of it.”

“We just thought you might want to go back home, get some real rest,” Mrs. Holmes said. “There’s no point in waiting around here if he won’t be up for some time. We were headed that way and we thought we could give you a lift.”

“I can catch a cab,” he said. 

“There’s no need,” Mycroft said from in front of them. All three of them looked to him. “I will be giving Mr. Williams a ride home. He and I have things we need to discuss.” He nodded towards Rory. “The car is waiting.”

Rory stood and waited for Mycroft to say good-bye to his parents. When he was done he moved away from them and Rory followed, staying quiet until they got to the car park and into the black sedan that Mycroft had used to get them to the hospital. “I suppose I should start looking for another place to stay,” he said.

“You could,” Mycroft said. “Or you can stay at the home rent free for the duration of your studies, as thanks for your actions tonight.”

“But Sherlock—” Rory began, but Mycroft shook his head.

“Sherlock will not be returning when he’s released from rehab, if that’s what’s concerning you,” he said. “When I first came to London I lodged with a very interesting woman named Mrs. Hudson. She has a vacancy in her home that she has said she will hold for my brother for when he is allowed back into the general population. After I have increased surveillance on him, I believe it will be the best solution.”

Rory raised an eyebrow. “He isn’t going to like that,” he said.

“No, but he’ll learn to tolerate it.” Mycroft studied him. “Whether you choose to have interactions with Sherlock from here on out are your own choice. You have every right to terminate your friendship, obviously, but I would say wait and see what he is like when he is done with whatever it is he has to go through to regain his sobriety.”

Rory nodded. “I suppose I’ll wait and see, then. And for now I’ll stay at the house. But if it gets strange, then I’ll leave.”

“If it gets strange then I will personally cover your lodgings elsewhere,” Mycroft said. “So long as you do not inform Sherlock or my parents of that fact.”

“I won’t,” he said, turning to look out the window. The conversation lapsed at that point, and Rory watched the lights of London as they passed by them. He wasn’t sure what he wanted out of this situation, what things would be like when Sherlock was sober, but he would wait and see. He owed Sherlock that much.


	10. Chapter 10

It was strange being at Sherlock’s home without Sherlock. It was quieter, more peaceful, but he began to feel uncomfortable being there. He was not the type of person to feel comfortable being at a friend’s home when his friend wasn’t there, and apparently it was doubly so when he was living there. As the end of his first term neared he spoke to Mycroft and between them it was decided that when he came back from the holidays he would have his own place.

It wasn’t the greatest of places, but it was his own, and that was good. It would be his for the duration of his time at university, and longer if he decided to remain in London afterward, though he had the feeling Mycroft had his doubts about that. Mycroft continued the stipend that had been initiated when Rory had begun keeping an eye on Sherlock, directly depositing it to Rory’s current account instead of giving it to him directly even though Rory insisted it wasn’t necessary, that the apartment was more than enough. But he had the feeling Mycroft felt guilty, and this was his way of lessening the guilt.

His second half of his first year went easier than his first, and soon enough it was almost over. Since this place was his and his alone and Mycroft had assured him he didn’t need to worry about leaving it unattended for the long break he wasn’t worried, so the only things he was taking back to Leadworth with him were his laptop, his clothing and some gifts for his family, Amy and Mel. He was approaching the bus to take him back to Leadworth when he saw a section was cordoned off by police tape. He edged over to it and saw there was a body on the ground that was being photographed. He also swore he recognized someone standing nearby.

Sherlock locked eyes with him for a moment and then nodded to the side, away from the growing crowd. Rory shifted his hold on the items he had with him and made his way farther away. A policeman tried to block him but he saw Sherlock heading towards him and then stepped aside. “Williams,” he said quietly. He glanced at the knapsack and luggage, then back at Rory’s face. “End of term already?”

Rory nodded. “Yeah. I’m heading back to Leadworth today for the summer break. It’ll be nice to be home for a stretch.” He shifted his hold on his knapsack. “You’re back to consulting?”

“On a trial basis,” he said. “Lestrade and my brother spoke at length, and Lestrade’s willing to give me another chance. Everyone else had pretty much written me off, though. I’m looking at going into the private sector more, if I need to.”

“Ah,” Rory said.

“You moved out of my parent’s home,” Sherlock said quietly. “I know Mycroft is keeping it hush hush, but he’s got you set up in a place on Montague Street. I suppose there are worse boltholes.”

“Boltholes?” Rory asked.

“Place to hide out,” Sherlock said. “If I ever needed them. But…I suppose you wouldn’t want me around, all things considered.”

Rory tilted his head just slightly. “You’ve changed, Sherlock. A lot. A lot more than I know how to deal with. And what if you relapse? What if next time you aren’t as lucky and I’m not on the other side of the door?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Sherlock said quietly. “We were childhood friends, and our friendship should be left in our childhood.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Rory said with a sigh. “I just meant that we’re both different, that maybe…I don’t know.” Then he ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe you’re right, Sherlock. Maybe it’s best if we just go our separate ways. You do your thing and I do mine. If our paths cross again we say our hellos, we do our bit of catching up, and we move on.”

“That would be best,” Sherlock said with a curt nod. Then he stuck out his hand. “Then I suppose…good-bye, Rory. And thank you, for everything.”

Rory slowly moved his hand to shake Sherlock’s. “Good-bye, Sherlock.”

Sherlock let go of his hand and then turned, marching away back towards the crime scene. Rory watched for a moment, a deep well of sadness springing up in him. He turned away from the crime scene and made his way to the bus depot, and then once he sat down he pulled out his mobile and dialed Amy’s number. She picked up on the third ring. “Rory?”

“I saw him,” he said quietly.

“Who?” she asked.

“Sherlock,” he replied.

“Oh,” she said. “How did it go?”

“Not well,” he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “We’re going to ignore each other if we can. Make pleasantries and then move on if we bump into each other. Act like we weren’t friends back in the day.”

“Rory…maybe he needs it,” she said slowly. “Maybe there are things from back then you don’t know about that are all tangled up in the time he spent being your friend that helped lead him down the road he went on. Maybe it caused his drug habit. And maybe that’s why he’s distancing himself.”

He was quiet for a moment. Sherlock hadn’t really talked about his home life when he was a kid, but he’d gathered it hadn’t been the greatest. “Or maybe I just let him down,” he said with a sigh.

“No. Don’t you dare blame yourself, Rory,” she said fiercely. “Look, you’re only going to be in London a few more years, and it’s a big city. You may run across him, you may not. You may never see him again for all you know, may never hear mention of his name or anything. But for right now, you’ve got a summer break starting, and you’ve got months of time with me to look forward to, all right? So forget about him for a bit and let’s talk about something else. Let’s make some plans, Rory, you and me. If Sherlock wants to be in your past then let me be your future, all right?”

He felt a smile on his face despite himself as he leaned back in the seat. “All right. Let’s make some plans.” And as he and Amy began to make plans for his break he felt the sadness ease and a brand new sense of hope and peace emerge in its place.


	11. Chapter 11

**A Few Years Later**

It was going to be a long day. Well, it might be longer if his son-in-law paid them a visit. He never knew how long he’d be gone on adventures if the Doctor dropped by. Could be a few hours, could be a few weeks. It all depended on what mood the Doctor and Amy were in and what they could talk him into. But before any of that was even going to be an issue, he was going to have his coffee, read the paper and relax a bit before going to the hospital for his shift.

He opened the door and saw there was a manila envelope on top of his morning paper. That was unusual; no one had a reason to leave an envelope that he could think of. It had his name on it, though, and the handwriting looked vaguely familiar. He picked it up and that was when he caught sight of the headline. He froze as he stared at the paper.

 _SUICIDE OF FAKE GENIUS,_ it screamed, and he felt a deep sadness in the pit of his stomach. He’d been following along with the trial, with everything going on with James Moriarty. He’d read Kitty Riley’s article and thought it was utter rubbish. Richard Brook was a con artist, a sham. He _knew_ Sherlock was a bloody genius and he’d never stoop to what that woman accused him of. But it must have all been too much.

“Rory?” Amy asked, coming up behind him. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s dead,” he said quietly.

Amy looked down at the paper, and her eyes went wide. “Oh bloody hell,” she said. After a moment she knelt down and picked up the paper, and only then did Rory seem to snap out of it. He turned and walked back into their home, carrying the envelope to the kitchen table and setting it down. Amy came up to him a moment later and handed him the paper. “I’ll call George and tell him you won’t be in today,” she said. “And then I’ll see if I can get a hold of the Doctor, all right?”

Rory nodded, taking the paper and staring at the photo. They couldn’t even do Sherlock the justice of putting a regular picture of him on there; they had to have one of him as he was falling from wherever he jumped. He stared at it for a moment before he began to read the article, glancing at the byline. Of _course_ that harpy had to write the article, he thought to himself as his jaw clenched. There was no way the press would give Sherlock any dignity in death.

He made it through the front page and turned to the next when he saw the note taped on top of the article. It made no sense when he glanced at it, saying “Open the envelope and study its contents carefully.” He looked at the note and then looked at the envelope. Same handwriting. He set down the paper and then turned to the envelope, picking it up and opening it. Inside was a comic book, an X-Men comic that featured Phoenix. He had been into comics when he was young, particularly X-Men, but he had told very few people since most of his classmates thought it was strange. Amy knew, and Mels…

And then it hit him. It was _Sherlock’s_ handwriting on the note. He’d spent an entire summer trying to get Sherlock into comics and the only character who had interested him even remotely was Bruce Banner. But Sherlock might have remembered his obsession with the comics. He began flipping through it and saw there were a few words handwritten in the open spaces on each page. Some were incredibly tiny and he couldn’t quite make them out; others he could read just fine. He went to the desk and rummaged around for a pad of paper and a magnifier, and when he had them he began poring through the comic. It took him nearly an hour, but he realized there was a word written in almost every panel; some panels had more than one. Amy had come out and made coffee and breakfast while he worked, but by the time she finished he had it all sorted.

_Rory,_

_Don’t believe the rumors, don’t believe the headlines. I’m not a fake, nor am I dead. There are very few who know the truth, just the people involved in pulling this off, but as you are someone who I trusted long ago I wanted to make sure you knew the truth as well. I trust you to keep this secret as you have my others._

_You saved my life. Not just from the overdose, but by being a friend. You were the only person who I believed cared at a time when I thought the world hated me. The years you were in university should have gone differently. We should have remained close, not drifted apart. But I understand why you did what you did. You had to think of yourself. Had I been in your position, I would have done the same._

_I will be gone for a long time. Months, years, I’m not sure. But just try to keep hope alive. I know you were offered a position at St. Bart’s recently. If you take it, please befriend the pathologist there, Molly Hooper. She is another person I would call a friend, and she also knows the truth. She may need someone to talk to. Even if you don’t, seek her out. She is a good woman, one of the best I know. And I like to think the two of you and Amelia might get on well._

_Burn this comic book so there’s no proof, after you show it to Amelia. Don’t keep secrets from her. She was always one of the best things to happen to you, Rory, as your friendship was one of the best things to happen to me. We may have drifted apart over the years, but what you did for me is something I will never forget._

_Live a better life then I have, Rory. Be happy._

_SH_

He finished reading it and then looked over at Amy, who had a smile on her face. “He’s still a cheeky bastard, isn’t he?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, handing the letter over to her to read. “Guess I didn’t need to call in after all.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “It probably wouldn’t hurt if the Doctor could find out where he is in, say, a few weeks time and we could observe from the shadows, just to make sure. _Or_ , we could see about asking our daughter if she knows what happens to him while he’s away doing what he’s doing. I don’t think River would mind a visit from us.”

He gave her a grin. “I think those sound like very good ideas,” he said, relaxing. He was glad Sherlock was still alive, that all the nonsense in the press was wrong, and that while he had a long road ahead of him he still took the time to tell him the truth so that he didn’t think the worst. And maybe, without Sherlock ever knowing it, Rory could possibly help an old friend out as Sherlock once helped him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for 'Then and Now'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4502469) by [stormbrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbrite/pseuds/stormbrite)




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